The Drow and the Emperor's Daughter
by Star Tae
Summary: The Heir Apparent for the Emperor of the East was told to subdue the North. She never expected to become distracted by a dark-skinned elf.
1. Chapter 1

Drizzt and Company will be seen in later chapters:)

They are, without a doubt, not mine, and I make no profit from this story!

I should explain that this is AU. Drizzt and Cattibrie had kids. She died-of course-but the kids grew and had a few themselves. This is the future, in which a foreign empire is looking on adding Drizzt's stomping grounds into their empire. Did I pull out a map and all? no. Might I in the future? yep. But not right now.

The warrior princess Chara, eldest daughter of the Emperor of the Eastern World, held the spy glass up to view the merchant, Muric, and his rag-tag band of mercenaries as they attempted to breach the Moonwood's defenses. She could not help sneering in contempt. The portly merchant of Calimport sat far back from the battle with a heavy guard about him, even further back than his lieutenant sat with his own guards.

How either of those fools expected to direct their forces in such a way was obvious. They were depending on brute force.

It wasn't working.

The defenders of the Moonwood remained carefully hidden within the forested border, and the mercenaries were failing miserably to breach it. Chara wondered if she should even bother to engage her warriors today. She toyed with the idea of roasting that idiot, Muric, on a spit tonight as a lesson to the others from the Calimport guilds that had banded with her father. Perhaps the display would instill in them a desire to improve their performance.

Even fodder should be organized.

And Muric's and the other power-hungry merchants' men WERE fodder. Chara intended them to wear down the defenses before she sent in her own well-disciplined troops. However, a steady volley of arrows from the elves was easily picking off the attackers. The few that reached the wooded border was met by a dwarven defense, of all things.

The elves had allies. She suspected it was the prize jewel her father hoped to conquer in this region. Mithril Hall. The elves they hoped to round up as slaves, but Mithril Hall was the main gem they sought.

She focused her attention on the little she could discern of the shielded position. They worked with precision. A wall of shields met her gaze through the glass until a mercenary approached the wall. The shields then parted and Chara caught her breath at the sight.

An exotic elf stood in the gap and took the mercenary's head clean off with a pair of short swords. The sight of the decapitation wasn't what stole her breath.

The elf was beautiful.

He glowed in the glistening breastplate that encased him, but his ebony skin was a stunning contrast to the nearly white glow of the armor and his white hair. He had the hair bound, but wisps of curls had fallen to frame the sides of his handsome face. A brilliant circlet graced his brow.

She watched his lips move, the words lost to the distance, and then he was gone behind the wall once more. He was leading the dwarven defense of the wood.

The decision was made for her in that moment. She would engage them in battle this day. She had to.

She had every intention of taking that elf as a trophy.

She called to her second-in-command, " _Initiate the first wave_ ," she ordered, not even acknowledging his salute. Instead, her eye remained to her glass to catch another glimpse. She was rewarded for her patience as a handful of mercenaries made it to the shielded line. The wall divided and out stepped her elf.

His expression was fierce and defiant. She smiled to see it.

A few of these mercenaries bore some skill, which allowed her to observe the elf's talent with his blades as he danced between them, his bared, Mithril laced arms directing his strokes effortlessly.

She had to have him.

A flick of her wrist had her second-in-command, Jofat, back at her side. " _Send word through our ranks. Capture the black-skinned elf. I want him unmarred_ ," she said, her eyes meeting Jofat's with a burning intensity. " _Is that clear?_ "

Jofat saluted, " _It will be as you command, Exalted One_."

She turned back to watch the dwarven line as her archers released a volley of flaming arrows into the forest. She didn't worry that the elf would be brought down by it. The shield formation altered to take the descent of the arrows, and he was safely behind it once more. No, the arrows were to set the forest ablaze. She cursed as most hit a magic barrier.

They had wizards.

She could not help but feel a measure of admiration for this group of defenders. So many of the cities and lands leading to this point fell too easily.

She thrilled at the challenge.

She allowed a measure of satisfaction to show for the sake of her soldiers when some of the flames lit the woods. However, it shifted to a frown as rain clouds gathered unnaturally over the forest and began to douse the fires. Wizards again. Let them wear down their magicians. They would regret it later.

Her eyes focused on her companies of cavalry and infantry as they began their approach from each flank, shields raised. Forced to precede them was more of the fodder. Some of the elven arrows still found a mark, but not nearly as easily as with Muric's motley crew. This merchant group had at least supplied their soldier's with wooden shields.

The merchants commanding this divided group were less removed from their troops, but still distant. They seemed to have a greater tactical skill than that fool, Muric. She intended to discover their names and make better use of them if they lived.

Muric's forces, what was left, had retreated. Chara doubted that Muric had commanded a retreat or anything at all. The fleeing mercenaries simply ran back toward the Empire's regiments. However, after her troops slew a few of the retreating mercenaries, the other fleeing cowards turned back to fight.

She allowed the fodder to continue to press in against the defenders, her own warriors forcing them forward. She itched to charge down and collect her elf, but not yet. She signaled for another volley into the trees as the elves released one of their own.

Fireballs began to rain down on her troops, causing her to cry out in fury. The merchants' men were fodder, not her soldiers. However, the wizard throwing the flames seemed to understand the importance her men held over those of the guilds.

The wizard was deliberately aiming for the disciplined ranks from the foreign empire set to overrun northern lands. She watched with pride as even the burning of those struck failed to cause her soldiers to break rank.

Horses fell with shrill death cries as arrows continued to rain down on them from the elves. Soldiers were thrown from faithful mounts, for shields could not protect the horse as well. She watched with a measure of triumph as the solid wall of dwarven shields shifted, readying for true battle.

The elf saw her force as a challenge then.

The dwarves were spread further, but patterned to provide solidity but mobility for each of the small warriors.

And in their midst, braced for the charge, was the exotic elven warrior.

The time for raining arrows was over. She watched as he called out to the dwarves, his words still lost to her over the din of battle and the distance as the first of the charge clashed with the dwarves. She watched through the glass with bated breath as the elf leapt over the dwarven defense to engage her warriors. She then leapt upon her warhorse and hefted her shield to lead her company down the center. She could see giant men as well, bleeding from the woods with war hammers and axes in sweeping waves to the sides of the dwarven defense, but she paid them little heed.

He was even more breathtaking the closer she came to him.

She itched to cross blades with him. But even more, she longed to hold him at the mercy of her every whim.

She admired his willingness to lead his force into battle, rather than send them. She saw the ferociousness it drew from the dwarven warriors to see their leader fighting so fiercely before them, leading them, rather than following in the bloody wake. However, she also knew the means of exploiting such courage. Motioning over one of her guards, she had him order the flag bearers to send a signal. Her men were to cut the elf off from retreat.

She pushed forward, fighting to enter the elf's sphere of battle, when she heard the whistle of arrows coming from behind. Turning, she cursed.

 _The fools!_

The merchants had released a volley onto her men as well as the defenders engaged in close combat. " _Shields up_!" she called, hearing her order echoed through the ranks and watching as her flag bearers scrambled to send the warning. She lifted her own shield. Her eyes shifted to her elf.

She was closer to him than he was to his dwarves, especially since her warriors had worked their way between him and the defensive line.

He had no shield of his own.

She forced her warhorse to a gallop, trampling any in her way that failed to move at her order. The elf had glanced up to see the sky darken with the flight of countless arrows.

His green eyes widened as he realized his own exposure. She leapt from her horse, knocking him to the ground. He rolled with the assault and a blade was at her throat when they made it back to their knees in one fluid motion.

Her eyes met his as she held her shield above them both. The blade faltered in its death stroke as—stunned—he realized she meant to protect him.

The falling arrows began to find marks.

A look of shocked pain flickered in those expressive green eyes.

" _No_!" she growled, pulling the elf closer, trying not to jar the arrow that had fallen to pierce the elf just below his left collarbone and above his breastplate. She prayed to anything and everything that it hadn't pierced his heart. His eyes fluttered shut, and his forehead pressed firmly against her jaw as the elf went limp in her arms. She shifted him, his head fell back against her shoulder, and his breath brushed against her chin.

He lived.

" _To me_!" she called as the last of the piercing barrage had fallen. Her guards were there as if they had never been parted from her side. " _Take the elf. Careful_!" she snapped, as they grabbed him. " _I want him alive, not dead! Take him to my tent and summon my healer_ ," she said, lowering her shield and standing to her feet. " _Signal the retreat and bring the fool who ordered that last volley to me_ ," she growled out, cursing as she saw her horse was dead. " _I want that fool skinned alive as entertainment to enjoy with my dinner_ ," she added coldly, accepting the salutes and acknowledgements of her guard with indifference.

Their acquiescence was her due after all.

She followed after her elf.

She would let the defenders rest somewhat tonight. Waving over one of her captains, she ordered, " _Employ the catapults through the night. Have a careful watch set and our warlocks to shield the camp_ ," she ordered.

" _As you command, Exalted One_ ," he answered, quickly setting out to fulfill her orders. Her forces began a slow, careful retreat. The guilds' forces were less so.

She heard an outcry come from the defenders and allowed a smile. They must have noticed she had their elf.


	2. Chapter 2

Nope. Still don't own Drizzt and company. Just checked.

I did devise the adorable Bruenor Battlehammer Do'Urden to join the crew, as well as wicked, shameless Chara. DOWN GIRL! (That's for the next chapter.)

Chara sat in her throne within the tent of meeting and gazed down on the fat fool that cost her both a favored horse and possibly her elven trophy.

Her eyes narrowed as the sniveling fool actually tried to beg for his life. " _You will die_ ," she told him, " _You could at least approach it with a measure of dignity_ ," she added, the interpreter relaying her words in their common tongue to the room.

She refused to speak their tongue while on her throne.

Her cold, gray eyes narrowed on the groveling merchant as she addressed her second, " _How many did this fool cost us?_ " Her eyes grew colder as the number of wounded and killed was recounted in men and horses. Muric shrank further to the ground as the interpreter shared the count.

"I m-m-merely wished to assist, your Exalted One," the merchant blubbered, prostrating himself at her feet.

" _By killing me_?" she asked sweetly.

"N-no, Exalted One!" Muric denied, lifting his hands pleadingly toward her, "never you! I thought to kill their prince," he said, glancing around the room at the other merchants, hoping that someone, anyone, would defend him.

None dared.

" _Their prince_?" she asked, suspecting whom he spoke of, but patiently waiting for the answer.

"The drow elf, Exalted One, the black-skinned one," Muric said, thinking he had fixed her interest and possibly won favor. "The dwarves consider him a prince among them. His loss would devastate them!" he told her, eager to please.

" _His loss would devastate me, since I intend to take him as my reward_ ," she told the merchant, watching with interest as the color bled from his face as her interpreter repeated her words, destroying all hope he had in surviving the night. " _As it is, despite my intervention_ ," she said, grabbing a cluster of grapes from a tray held to her by a slave, " _I may still lose my prize_." She took one of the grapes and popped it in her mouth. She looked expectantly at her second, and said, " _I have begun eating_."

The man bowed and signaled to the shadows. A table was placed in the center of the tent and the merchant was bound to its top by her guards. Behind them approached her master of torture. " _Exalted One_ ," he greeted with a bow. His coal-black gaze seemed more fitting on a corpse, but the warrior princess Chara didn't seem to mind.

She grinned at him. " _I would have you entertain me with your talents, but gag him, Rao_ ," she told the corpse-like man, " _I have a guest resting in my private tent in the rear of us_ ," she explained, finishing her grapes and grabbing a leg of roasted mutton from another offered tray, " _I would not have his rest troubled_ ," she said, signaling for the other merchants to sit and eat.

" _I understand, Exalted One_ ," Rao said, bowing, as he spread out the tools of his trade on another table provided for his use. Gagging the merchant, Rao began to methodically peel the flesh from his bones. Many of the warrior princess' guests left to violently relieve themselves of what little they had eaten, but knew better than to stay away.

Others simply sat at the tables, refraining from food, and trying not to notice the still very audible sounds coming from Muric in the middle of the tent. Any who dared to look at the warrior princess shuddered.

Her eyes were focused on Rao as he plied his trade on the fat merchant. All the while, she chewed ravenously on her leg of mutton. The other merchants and their guilds learned from the lesson.

Chara had no more stomach for the torture than the power-hungry merchants she sought to put in their place, but she understood the power of intimidation. Her father had taught her well. She could school her features and force the rest of her body to submit to her will, and her will was that these men fear her.

And fear her they did.

When Muric was dead, she thanked Rao brightly, and signaled to have the remains removed. More than one of her slaves got sick over the spot as they picked up the pieces of the man. Chara didn't have any desire to punish them for expressing freely what she was forced to hide.

There was no honor in torture, but neither would she allow for another such incident as that hapless volley to cost her any more resources. She motioned for one of the slaves waiting on her to approach and dropped the remains of her mutton on the girl's tray.

Standing to her feet, she said, " _Though this has been immensely entertaining, we resume full-out battle tomorrow_." Her eyes fell on each of them, pausing to allow her words to be conveyed. " _Orders have been issued to all of you. You will follow them to the letter. Understood_?" She did not bother to watch as they prostrated themselves before her.

She wanted to check on her elf.


	3. Chapter 3

Nope. Still not making money off of it:)

Chara entered her tent to find her healer gently bathing the elf's chest with a cloth. The arrow had been removed it seemed, as had the elf's armor and clothes. She paused, spreading her arms wide, and waited. Slaves rushed forward to strip off her armor and clothing. Warm sponges bathed her skin, but her eyes followed the hands of the Healer rather than those on her own skin.

A silk robe was then placed upon her, and just as quietly and suddenly as they appeared, the well-trained slaves were gone.

" _How is he? Will he live?_ " she asked, kneeling by the furred bedding to look down on her elf.

" _I was worried that the arrow was too close to his heart, Exalted One_ ," the Healer said, placing the cloth back into the lavender laced water beside him. His soft, gray eyes met the flint-like ones of his future Empress. " _But I managed to remove it with some difficulty_ ," the Healer looked apologetic. " _The arrowhead was viciously barbed,_ " he said, " _so there was a great deal of damage done in its removal, but I have begun the healing magic deep within, and he still breaths_ ," he said, " _He is a resilient creature_ ," the Healer added, his eyes now on the elf. " _He will be weak and sore. He shouldn't move his arm, so I bound it to his chest, as you see. I also had a sedative administered to keep him calm_."

" _Why are these still on him_?" she said, indicating the exquisite armbands that circled his well-muscled biceps, sliding her fingers across the chill metal.

The Healer looked uncertain for a moment, as he answered, " _We could not get them off, Exalted One_." His eyes followed the Warrior princess' gliding fingers as they danced across metal and dark skin.

" _He is so beautiful_ ," she whispered, her eyes struggling to take in every angle, every line.

The Healer turned his gaze humbly back to the warrior princess. " _Shall I stay with him tonight, Exalted One_?" he asked.

" _No_ ," she answered. " _I will watch over him_ ," she added. " _Thank you for your care as always, Nim_."

When the Healer departed, she reached over the elf and grabbed the bowl of water, moving it before her. Chara then began to bathe him with the cloth. The brazier light flickered beautifully across his damp, ebony skin. She marveled as the muscles of his abdomen flexed in response to the chill cloth against his flesh. She found herself captivated as his head shifted, his neck stretching to highlight its graceful line, and then she was riveted.

There was an ornate ornament that cuffed the point of one ear, swirling and spiraling across its expanse, accentuating the delicate shape. The ornament was of the same brilliant metal. It had to be Mithril. She dropped the cloth back into the water. Lying across him, she then reached up to trace that tempting view.

The elf shivered, drawing a smirk from Chara.

It seemed the elf's ears were sensitive. Gently turning his head, she pushed back the white, down soft curls to examine his unadorned ear. She then slid a fingertip down the entire edge. His response was enticing. There was the shiver, joined with a subtle upward shift of his slender hips, as well as a breathy little moan.

She let out a moan of her own, kissing a trail down his throat as she sat back. Grabbing a fist full of the furs that sat low across his hips, she tossed back the covering. " _What a lovely view_ ," she said to herself. He was sculpted in graceful, muscular lines from the tips of those enchanting ears all the way down to each slender toe.

Her eyes caught on the soft white treasure trail of curls that started just below his belly button and ran to the treasure trove nestled between his muscled thighs. Warmth pooled in her loins at the sight. Tearing her eyes away, she leaned back across him to brush her lips against his jaw and the lobe of his ear.

"I want so much to take you right now," she said softly into that delightful little ear, hoping he heard and understood, "but you need rest to heal." So instead of straddling her elf, she pressed a chaste little kiss at the corner of his mouth, and lifted the cloth from the water once more. It was tortuous to slide the cool cloth over him when she would rather it was her skin in its place, but she remained firm.

When she was finished, she pulled the discarded furs up to cover him to his bandaged shoulder. "Rest, my pretty prince," she whispered, the foreign words tripping over her lips as she nestled down in the furs beside him. She would watch him sleep a little longer before claiming her own.


	4. Chapter 4

R.A. Salvatore still owns Drizzt, Guen, Bruenor Battlehammer, etc. I'm just borrowing them to do my own thing. I'll give 'em back, promise:)

The Warrior Princess Chara, heir apparent to the Empire of the Known World, was jolted awake. She frowned. No one jolted her, ever. Her eyes slit open in displeasure, only to dance with humor, as she realized the elf was trying to extricate himself from her embrace.

However, she had bound his free hand above them to a stake before she had fallen asleep. The other had been bound to his chest by the healer so that his efforts were utterly fruitless. She nuzzled his nipple and he froze. "Good morning, sweet prince," she told him in his land's common tongue, her gaze sliding up to meet his startled green eyes. She found the feathery white lashes framing those eyes momentarily distracting. So it was that she didn't recognize the look on his face as mortified until those curled lashes fell to hide his eyes.

She smiled when she saw what had embarrassed him. His shifting had caused the furs to slip below his hips, partially exposing him. She draped her leg across the exposure. His eyes flew open at the pressure, and from the look on his face, she almost wished his skin was lighter.

Almost.

She was sure he was blushing. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, my pretty prince," she told him, drawing a pattern across his chest with a fingertip. "I have carefully cataloged every inch of you," she told him with a smirk, "and I have not found you wanting in any area."

"Le' me up, woman," he said, his eyes suddenly hard. She liked the way he spoke this land's common tongue, making the otherwise ugly sounding words lyrical. "I wan' me clothes an' me armor," he told her, the r's rolling off his tongue.

"No," she told him, crawling up to fist his hair, she kissed him in earnest. She had been so good the night before, fighting every desire to molest him while he slept. He refused to yield to her kiss. His jaw was locked tight. "Come now, elf. I did save you," she said, gripping his jaw to turn his head to whisper in his ear, "Shouldn't I at least get a kiss?" Her tongue flicked across the pointed tip and a jolt passed through the elf. She smiled against his jaw as she nuzzled his curls before completely focusing her attention on his ear. She nibbled it. She licked it. She covered that dainty bit of flesh with lavish attention and had no wish to stop.

The elf was positively thrashing.

"S-stop it," he pleaded, but she couldn't. The first nibble had startled a whine out of him. The second had him squirming. As she continued, the sounds he was making became addictive, but she had an agenda.

"Can I have my kiss now?" she asked, a breath from his tortured ear, "or should I continue?" she added.

"Fine!" he said. "if'n a kiss will make ye stop," he added, as she pulled away from that adorable ear. She shifted to straddle him, and smiled at the apprehensive look in his eyes.

Sprawling over him, she framed his face with her hands and slanted her mouth across his. This time, he reluctantly let her take what she wanted. She deepened the kiss, suckled his tongue, and flicked her own into every little crevice of his mouth. She worked his jaw with a passion before pulling back to gently nibble his lips. "You taste delightful," she told him, a little breathless. But then, so was he she noticed.

She also noticed the tinge of pain in his eyes as she looked at him. It seemed the thrashing had not done his wound any good. Her chest tightened at the thought she might have aggravated the injury. " _Forgive me, beautiful one_ ," she said in her own tongue, her hand gently coming to rest over the bandages on his chest. "I did not mean to strain your wound," she told him in his. She moved to rest her elbows on either side of his head. She placed a kiss on his brow, then the tip of his nose, before moving to meet his eyes once more, and kissing his lips. "I am afraid you are partially at fault. You are far too desirable for me to leave you alone," she confided to him.

"Wha' are ye plannin'?" he asked. "If'n yer thinkin' o' usin' me to force a surrender yer daf'," he told her, shifting uncomfortably as her hands explored.

"My only thought when I laid eyes on your beautiful hide was that I wanted you," she told him, reluctantly withdrawing from him for the sake of his injury. " _Call the Healer to me_ ," she said in her own tongue, knowing her command was heard. Standing to her feet, she allowed herself a chance to admire every exposed inch of him, amused to see his embarrassment returned.

The furs, with all of his thrashing, as well as her movements, were now covering very little. She took pity on him and pulled them back into place.

"Thank ye," he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. He was adorable in his modesty.

"I thought we had discussed gratitude already, prince," she said. "A kiss is how you thank me," she added, tempted to take that kiss now, but the entrance of the Healer delayed it.


	5. Chapter 5

Puffgirl1952 the 2nd!-that is a mouthful, say that 5 times fast! :)-thank you for taking the time to review, and fav me, and follow me!

I am touched! So I put together a little thank you below. Hope you like.

I do not own or profit from any of R.A. Salvatore's characters. Chara and the drow, Bruenor are spawns of my own mind;)

" _Nim, I believe the elf may have strained his injury_ ," she told the healer, her eyes never leaving her elf. She couldn't help being amused as the elf's vibrant green gaze danced from her to the healer. He didn't understand her tongue and had no idea why Nim was there. She thought of toying with him, but decided there were better ways to play with his sensibilities. "Nim is a healer. I have asked him to look at your wound."

The elf's eyes were back on her. "If'n ye'd jus' give me the flask from me belt, I'd be reet as rain in a jiffy," he told her. "There's nothin' better than me Gram's holy water." She quirked an eyebrow at that and translated his words to the healer. The healer didn't seem surprised. He explained that in these lands, the clerics of the different races could infuse magical healing properties into elixirs. " _Why has this not been brought to my attention till now?_ " she asked the healer.

The healer looked decidedly uncomfortable, as he admitted, " _We have not determined how they do it. None of those we've taken captive have knowledge of it or they simply will not disclose it_."

For the first time in a long while, Chara directed a look of reproof at her favored healer. " _Whether or not you understand how they do it, I should have been informed that they CAN_ ," she told him. " _Bring the flask, Nim_ ," she added, dismissing him.

"Don't ye know it's rude to talk over someone in a language they don't know?" the elf asked, perturbed. She just grinned at him as Nim slipped out to do her bidding.

"Forgive me, prince," she said, once they were alone again. "I didn't mean for you to feel neglected," she added as she knelt on the bedding and crawled to drape herself across him. Chuckling as he tried to squirm his way free.

"I'm married, dammit!" he said, as she fisted his hair and her teeth latched on to his ear to nibble.

"Are you?" she queried, not particularly interested. Frankly, she would've been surprised if he wasn't. But then, her father had four wives and eighteen concubines, and still pursued more. She knew there were those in these lands that tended to be monogamous. It was different, but hardly a concern to her. She intended him to be her slave, not her husband. Whether or not a slave was married mattered not. "I suppose she should have kept a tighter leash on you then," she told him, before leaving his ear to trail kisses along his jaw. "She can hardly blame me for stealing you away. I'm sure, given the opportunity, she would have done the same." She placed a wet kiss on his pretty throat. "Stop squirming, prince. You will hurt yourself further," she told him, her eyes meeting his. "I do not wish you pain."

"Then get off me!" he ground out, his gaze fiery. "I'm no' interested."

"You owe me a kiss," she told him, her own steely gaze dropping to focus on his lips. She really liked his lips, and everything attached to them. "Or should we eliminate these?" she asked, indicating the furs with a nod of her head. She smiled at his startled expression. "I would certainly enjoy their absence," she whispered, intently watching as his tongue nervously flickered out to wet his lips. "Surrender," she whispered, her eyes lifting to capture his. "Give me my kiss," she demanded.

His eyes fell shut, his expression was forlorn. Uncertain. She felt a small pang in her heart at causing it, but quickly pushed it aside. She was a woman far too obsessed to allow for remorse in her dealings with him. When he nodded, she took his lips for the second time. He still didn't kiss her back, but neither did he fight her. He simply surrendered to her whims. It was enough. For now. " _You are addictive, my sweet_ ," she whispered in her own tongue against his soft lips, taking the plump lower lip between her teeth, teasing it. " _You are mine. You just don't know it yet_ ," she added, still in words he did not understand. She reluctantly pulled away as her healer returned with the requested flask. Standing, she turned away to collect herself. She could not allow him to absorb all of her focus. It was time she left him to the healer and met with her commanders.

Holding out her arms, her slaves were suddenly at her side to dress her, strapping on her freshly polished armor. While the slaves worked, Chara allowed her eyes to wander to her prize, smirking when her eyes briefly met the elf's as the healer prepared to spoon-feed the elixir. Her elf had been watching, and once again, she had a moment when she wished she could enjoy his blush of embarrassment. " _Nim, give him the elixir, but do NOT cut his bindings just yet,"_ she said, before leaving the tent. " _I have no wish to hear he has escaped me._ "

 _"Yes, Exalted One,"_ Nim replied, but she had already departed.


	6. Chapter 6

I don't profit from this story at all. Merry Christmas, Puff:)

Chara forced her thoughts of the elf to the back of her mind as she entered the tent of meeting. Her eyes fell on her second, Jofat, ignoring the sycophants prostrating themselves at her entrance. " _Jofat, I wish to speak with the merchant leaders that followed Muric's assault on the wood yesterday_ ," she said, taking her seat on the throne.

" _As you command, Exalted One_ ," he replied with a reverent bow, before motioning sharply to one of his subordinates by the door to execute the command.

" _Anything eventful from the evening watch?_ " she inquired, taking an apple from the offered food tray as well as a goblet of mulled wine.

Jofat cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable, as he said, " _There were reports of a giant black beast attacking the fringes of the camp._ " He bowed to her on his knees, as he added, " _some of the wounds are consistent with that of an animal, but some are from blades._ "

" _How many and whose?_ " she demanded, her cold gray eyes narrowed.

" _A hundred dead, over two score wounded. They were ours._ " He flinched as she threw her goblet, thankfully, not at him.

" _How?!_ " she demanded. " _How were we attacked with the warlocks shielding the camp?_ " The sycophants bowing in attendance to her quivered in fear, but she neither noticed nor cared. Her mind was on her soldiers, her FATHER'S soldiers. She reigned in her temper, the very ability that set her apart from her many siblings. The reason her father chose her as his heir. She could not afford to disappoint. Her future depended on it. " _Tell me they lost soldiers in the assault_ ," she demanded, but Jofat merely prostrated himself further in answer, begging her forgiveness. " _Did we not claim a single enemy last night_?" she demanded. " _What damage was wrought with the catapults_?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at her second.

" _The reports from the commanders of the catapult squadrons are that the wizards managed to block most of the assault, and put out the flames of the few that managed to breach their defenses,_ " he answered, flinching as he added, " _damage to the enemy was minimal."_

 _"I want Meekra here, now_ ," she stated, naming the head of her warlocks, and then motioning for more wine. " _You will see to it personally, Jofat._ "

" _Yes, Exalted One,_ " he replied, hurrying from the tent.

" _Leave me!"_ she ordered to all the whimpering mass that sought to court her favor, watching in scorn as they scurried like mice from the tent. She snorted in contempt, before slumping back into her throne. She suddenly felt extremely tired.

Fiery green eyes suddenly brushed her thoughts. She took a gulp of wine, before calling out, " _bring my breakfast to my private tent. I wish to eat there_." She stood to her feet. " _Tell those I sent for to await my pleasure here_ ," she said, not caring who performed the duty, only expecting that it be done. Her mind mulled over the possibility of someone passing the barriers. She had allowed herself to imagine her camp invincible behind the warlocks' barrier, and her arrogance had cost her soldiers. She brushed pass the guards stationed between her tent and the tent of meeting, finding a rather amusing—and tantalizing—sight as she entered her private tent.

The elf had twisted around onto his knees, trying to chew his way through the bindings holding his hand to the stake. The furs were lying forgotten beneath him. She allowed her eyes to take in the bowed form, and the prominently displayed bottom before chuckling. His reaction was immediate.

He dropped to a seated position and tucked his knees to his chest, but his chin lifted and his eyes were defiant. She smiled at him.

Slaves entered behind her, laying a spread of foods to tempt her appetite and just as quickly were gone. "Hungry?" she asked him, finally allowing her eyes to peruse the breakfast offering laid out for her. "Do you have any preference?" she asked, taking the golden platter meant for her use and placing some fresh fruit, roasted meat, pastries, and nuts upon it.

"Aye," he answered, "I'd prefer if'n ye'd let me go." His wary eyes followed her every move.

She answered with a soft laugh, before bringing the platter with her wine and sitting beside him. Plucking a fig from the dish, she held it before him. "Try this. They are delicious." He turned his head to deny the offering, so she shrugged, running the fruit along his jawline. "Well, if you aren't going to eat, there are other things we can do . . ." She left the words hanging suggestively in the air. He turned and snatched the fruit from her fingers with his teeth. "As I thought," she said, taking one of the figs for herself.

She didn't think she would ever tire of looking upon him.

"Stop starin' at me, woman," he said.

"I cannot help it, elf," she answered, offering him a pastry that he grudgingly accepted a bite of by the only means he had, his teeth. "You are far too pleasing to look at," she added with a smile, finishing the pastry. "What is your name?" she asked, as she licked filling from her fingers.

"I'll keep me name, thank ye," he replied, his green eyes cautious.

"Oh?" she sounded, popping a grape into her mouth as she watched him. Her air of contemplation seemed to unnerve the elf. "Shall I make one up for you then? How about Emerald? Hmm?" she asked, leaning in to gaze into his eyes. "For your eyes are so like gemstones," she said, playfully, but as she stared into them, she found the words were true. Emeralds flecked with amethyst. She looked away, catching her breath as she nipped another grape to distract herself. "How about Onyx or Ebony for your beautiful skin?" she asked, smiling at the indignant sound the elf made. "I know, I'll call you Luscious, for your lips!"

"It's Bruenor, ye abominable woman! Bruenor Battlehammer Do'Urden!" he said, his eyes were practically glowing in rage. She thought them even prettier that way. "And don't ye think to call me anythin' else! I'll no' answer to it," he added, looking away.

She smiled. Now that she had him riled, she asked, "What can you tell me of a black beast killing my men?" She saw him stiffen, but he remained silent. "An ally of yours then," she concluded. "Will it pain you if we kill it?" She was surprised to see him turn to her and laugh. She felt a flutter in her chest as she took in his dimpled grin and the sound of his mirth.

When he did finally reply, he did so with a smirk. "You're welcome to try, wench," he said.


	7. Chapter 7

Drizzt Do'Urden is so not mine. None of R.A. Salvatore's characters are, and I do not profit from them:) With that, here is a long awaited update. I intend to try to get you guys another by next week!

As Chara took her throne once more in the tent of meeting, she contemplated the elf's reaction to her threat to kill his ally. He was definitely confident she couldn't, so a magical beast perhaps? She tried to think of all of the possibilities, but her mind kept recalling a certain dimpled smile. " _Damn it,"_ she muttered to herself as Meekra sauntered in, followed by her second-in-command. She noticed the merchants were already kneeling before her. She would deal with them first. Meekra was an arrogant man. One that Chara needed to be careful with. It would not do to shame him in front of those he considered beneath him.

" _You are the merchants that led the group following Muric's blundering excuse of an assault, am I correct_?" she asked, studying the two men as the translator relayed her words. One of the men was slender, with skin so dark brown, it was nearly black, like the color of her elf. However, he was far from handsome. His features looked pinched. Shrewd. The other was a heavier man. One could say he looked jovial, if not for his cold, calculating eyes. Both were opulently dressed, garishly so. It seemed they wished to impress her. They failed in that regard.

"That is correct, Princess," stated the dark one. An arched brow from her and the hiss of her second's blade alerted the merchant to the blunder, "I beg your pardon, Exalted One!" he all but shouted, prostrating himself before her.

She smiled. Her eyes meeting those of his companion, she asked, " _Which of you is the tactician? I was pleased with the manner in which you handled your men yesterday_." She rested her elbow on the side of her throne, setting her chin in her palm as she awaited the reply. Though, she was nearly certain she knew the answer already.

"I am, Exalted One," said the heavier of the two. His voice seemed at odds with the rest of him. It was too high pitched. He was a man of many contradictions, it seemed.

" _Your name_?"

"Berdran, Exalted One," he answered, bowing beside his colleague.

" _Berdran_ ," she said, as if tasting the name, contemplating the man. " _You are now in charge of all the merchant forces. It seems the post was made vacant last night_." She watched, amused, as the color drained from his face when the translator relayed her words. He must have been present during Muric's demise. " _I trust, Berdran, that you will not disappoint me_ ," she told him, dismissing them both—as well as the translator—with a wave of her hand. When the two merchants had bowed themselves out, she turned her full attention onto her warlock.

He would need to be handled with more care. He was, after all, a very dangerous man. And warlocks could be volatile. However, to show him that she felt threatened by him was to show weakness, and as the Emperor's heir, she could not be weak. " _Meekra_ ," she said, a burning smile upon her face, " _I lost a great many men last night_." She stood gracefully from her throne when he moved to bow before her, and approached the warlock as he regained his feet. " _Do you know why I requested that Father send you?_ " she asked him, meeting his hard gaze. She felt triumphant when he dropped his eyes to the floor.

" _No, Exalted One. I do not_ ," he answered.

She circled him, much as a predator would. She wanted him to feel intimidated. " _You are said to be the best among your guild, Meekra, and I need the best of everything,_ " she told him, knowing that stroking his ego was just as important as keeping him off balance. " _I demand the best,_ " she added, as she came to a stop before him. " _And yet, our enemies managed to bypass your shields and strike at my soldiers. How, Meekra?_ " she demanded, coming flush up to him, forcing him to meet her gaze.

" _I am looking into the matter, Exalted One._ "

She smiled dazzlingly at him, knowing it would put him further on edge. " _I am glad, Meekra. I am sure you will not fail me again,_ " she told him, returning to her throne and sitting tall within it. " _From what I have garnered from my . . . captive, the creature is most likely an ally of his and magical. You are dismissed for now_ " she said, motioning her cupbearer for wine. " _I expect a progress report this evening,_ " she added, taking her goblet in hand. She watched as he bowed himself out of her presence. He would consider the attack a personal affront and an embarrassment to himself. He would be relentless to find the answer.

She waited until the warlock was gone, her mind still troubled by the enemy's successful assault on her camp last night, before she spoke again. "Jofat," she called, knowing her second stood in the shadows near the entrance.

"Exalted One," he said, stepping from the shadows to prostrate himself before her.

She waited for him to return to his feet, before asking, "are we prepared to resume the assault upon the elves?" She took a sip of her wine. The warm, mulled flavor bursting across her tongue soothed her ire somewhat, as she gazed on the commander.

She had fancied herself in love with him once. Jofat was a handsome commander, after all, and the son of a powerful family. It seemed forever ago when she had broached the subject of marriage with her father. But her father had made it clear. If she was to be his heir, she could not allow such sentiments to hinder her judgement. She had slaves to appease her fancies. More powerful men were meant to be handled with care and cunning. And when she married, if would need to be to strengthen her own position, not to give the throne to another powerful family, even if that family's son seemed to be her most loyal subject.

His dark, almond-shaped eyes met hers, "we are, Exalted One. Shall I lead the assault on your behalf, or do you care to do so today?" he asked, knowing her answer already.

"After the debacle last night, I cannot fail to lead the assault. Have them ready my horse," she said, tossing back her head to down the last of her wine. "And Jofat, have the slave masters attend to proper bindings for my newest acquisition, hm?"


End file.
